


the sky won't hold light (it leaves me blind)

by BlackAngelis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Incest, Marriage of Convenience, Miscarriage, Sibling Incest, at first, siblings to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackAngelis/pseuds/BlackAngelis
Summary: After the war, Cersei marries Tyrion.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister (mentioned), Cersei Lannister/Tyrion Lannister, Tyrion Lannister/Daenerys Targaryen (mentioned)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	the sky won't hold light (it leaves me blind)

The war has been over for three days when Cersei summons Tyrion into the Throne Room.

The silence is deadly, here. He barely glances at the blood spots on the floor – he already sees them in his nightmares. When the Unsullied broke into the Red Keep, they left hundreds of corpses behind them.

Cersei is sitting on the Iron Throne. The crown is still resting on her head – the crown Daenerys failed to take from her.

He doesn't kneel, doesn't bow. She didn't expect that he would anyway.

"You wanted to talk to me," he says.

She's a haunted, broken woman but no one could guess it by just looking at her. He knows because she's his blood, because they're the same, two lions who have lost everything.

"What are you going to do now?" she asks.

He opens his mouth but no words come out. Every plan he had, every hope, every dream is gone, they shattered to pieces when Daenerys decided that peace was something to forsake.

Tyrion is alone. Truly alone.

"I don't know," he whispers, the words are a breath on his tongue.

 _What about you?_ he wants to say but he doesn't need to, it's so obvious, Cersei is a lioness, she will do what lions do, she will survive, she will rise again, and she will rule.

"You wanted to be the Dragon Queen's King."

"I guess I did," he replies, eyes narrowing, trying to figure out if it wasn't just something made up by his mind.

It was what it was all about, building a new world together, the dragon and the lion side by side. It will remain a dream, something to be forgotten.

"But it doesn't matter. She's gone, now. She destroyed half of the city with her soldiers. She would have destroyed it all if Jaime hadn't-".

He lowers his gaze, shaking.

_If Jaime hadn't put an end to it when he stabbed her in the back._

Cersei doesn't cry, and for that he's thankful.

"You could still be a king."

"A king? What do you mean?"

She crosses her hands in her lap.

"If you marry me, you'll be my consort."

He thinks it's some kind of a joke but Cersei is deadly serious.

"You can't mean it."

"I can, and I do."

"Gods, why would you want to marry me? You _hate_ me."

"I don't love you, that's for sure, but I wouldn't say that I _hate_ you. Anyway... I planned to marry Jaime once the war was over. Obviously that cannot happen."

Tyrion remembers his body, or rather what was left of it once the Unsullied were done with him. Bones and blood. He knew it was his brother only because of the golden hand.

"You have nowhere to go," Cersei goes on. "The Targaryen girl is gone. The Starks don't trust you because you loved her too much to try to stop her before it was too late. I guess you could go back to Casterly Rock, but what for? There's nothing for you there."

"And my life would be so much better if I were your husband, of course," he says ironically.

"You could help me rule. I never want to trust a small council again. There won't be another Hand of the Queen."

"And you'd be willing to trust me?"

She shrugs, almost annoyed.

"You're my brother. My blood. We could create a dynasty... a Lannister dynasty. No one would try to stop us, not after the war."

She's right, there's nothing left for him out there, his brother is gone, he has no allies, no friends, no one but her. He stares at Cersei. The only reason she's still on the Throne is because she sent her amies north to defeat the army of the dead. The Throne is said to be cursed, now, cursed with dragon blood, no one else wants to sit upon it.

"But that means we'd have to... we'd have to..." he mutters awkwardly.

"Is that what bothers you?"

For the first time, she's almost looking amused.

"You don't need to worry about that. I'm carrying Jaime's child, I already have an heir. This marriage would remain unconsummated, you wouldn't share my bed."

"Oh. I see."

She waves her hand, dismissing him.

"Think about it."

He nods before walking away.

.

The thought doesn't leave his mind for an instant.

Marrying Cersei. Someone who used to hate him with all her heart. His sister. He wouldn't share her bed, but still, it's odd, maybe too odd.

The Red Keep is quiet, as dark as the sky. It's been a cruel winter, and it seems like summer won't come any time soon. He wanders the corridors, looking down, trying to avoid the ghosts lurking in the shadows.

A week later, he visits Cersei in her bedchamber. She's brushing her hair and doesn't even turn to look at him.

"So?" she asks.

"I don't think I would be a good husband."

"Why? Do you intend on mistreating me?"

"No!"

"Will you force my legs apart to claim your rights?"

" _Of course not_ , I'm not-"

"Then there's no problem at all."

She lays the brush on the dressing table and turns to look him in the eye.

"We've both been trapped in loveless marriages before. And we survived."

He sighs, defeated, finding nothing else to say.

"All right."

"Perfect. We'll be married tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Do you plan on changing your mind?"

"No."

"Then there's no need to wait."

Tyrion shrugs, tired, feeling older than he actually is.

"As you wish."

Before leaving the room, he glances at the bed, the one he'll never crawl into.

.

It's a sad ceremony, almost a secret one, it's only the two of them and a septon from the Westerlands. They're both thinking of someone else, and they don't even try to hide it. He doesn't sound very convinced when he says the words, and neither does she.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

It's certainly not a love marriage, it's not a political marriage either. If he had to give it a name, it would probably be a marriage of convenience.

When it's done, he thinks they will simply go about their usual business, meaning Cersei is going to rule and Tyrion is going to drink and wander the Keep for the rest of the day, but she grabs his wrist before he can walk away from her.

"You're King Consort, now. We have seven kingdoms to rule."

"Are you actually going to listen to whatever I'll say?"

She smiles mockingly.

"Of course not. But it's pleasant to have someone to argue with."

He rolls his eyes and follows her.

The small council table looks very empty. He listens to her telling him about rebuilding the part of the city that has been destroyed by Daenerys's armies. They're lucky that her two remaining dragons died during the Long Night but thinking of it still makes him sad. It's probably what broke whatever was left of her sanity. He watches Cersei rub her belly, pensive.

"I miss him," he says.

"I don't want to talk about Jaime," she replies a little too sharply.

He doesn't insist. At night, they have dinner together in her bedchamber, eating in silence, lost in the maze of their thoughts.

"Good night," he tells her before leaving the room.

"Good night," she replies, not making the slightest move to hold him back – and why would she?

It's been a quiet day, he thinks when he climbs on his bed. A very simple one. Maybe too simple, a younger Tyrion would have thought, before the war, but if simple means peaceful, then he's totally fine with it.

.

The first weeks are silent, even too silent. Noise helps keeping the ghosts and the nightmares away. He thought their relationship would be what it was years ago, when he was Hand of the King and Cersei was Queen Regent, but he was wrong. Her voice is softer, her eyes less bright, her words less sharp.

The war has left some scars. Jaime's absence has left some scars.

"What makes you keep going?" he asks.

He didn't think she would survive Jaime's death. She barely does, actually, even if she does everything she can to be strong in front of him.

She simply puts her hand on her belly.

"I've always lived for my children. Jaime's children."

Being Cersei's husband is actually quite easy, much easier than he expected. They never talk about all the times they hurt each another, the insults, the trial, her dead children – it all belongs in the past. The wounds have not healed, not at all, but neither of them is strong enough to bring them up and open them again.

.

Tyrion isn't unhappy, but he isn't happy either.

Cersei is polite to him, but never warm.

Cersei smiles sometimes, when she thinks of Jaime or the child in her womb, but she never laughs.

Cersei argues with him over some things when they talk about how to rule Westeros, but she never takes any satisfaction from it, she simply plays a role.

Cersei is always sad, but never shares her grief with him.

And Tyrion is lonely, so lonely, lost in the middle of his terrible memories.

.

One afternoon, the fragile balance they've managed to build over the past few weeks shatters to pieces. It's a day like any other, they've spent some hours at the small council table when Cersei says, looking dizzy:

"I... I don't feel well."

She stands up and almost falls.

"What's going on?" Tyrion asks, worried, getting to his feet and grabbing her arm.

"I don't know," she replies, but her eyes say otherwise.

She's in pain, he can see it, and he understands why when he looks down and notices the blood staining her dress.

"No," she whispers, desperate. "Please, no, not this..."

"Don't move, I'm going to send for the maester," he says as she starts panicking, not listening to him.

The scream she lets out will haunt him until the day he dies.

.

He waits for hours in front of the door, feeling so useless. Finally, the maester walks out of the room.

"She's fine, Your Grace," he tells him.

 _Your Grace._ Sometimes, he forgets that he's the King, now.

"And the baby?"

"The baby... she lost it. I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do. These things happen sometimes, especially at her age."

"Can I see her?"

He nods.

"She needs to rest."

Cersei is awake when he comes in. He can see the trail her tears left on her cheeks. Her eyes are red. He sits on the bed quietly, having no idea what to say.

"I'm so sorry, Cersei."

She doesn't respond, doesn't even glance at him, looking so bewildered.

"My child," she murmurs. "Jaime's child. Gone."

"I'm so sorry," he says again, and he means it, he really does, in his mind he already pictured that child with blond hair and green eyes, Cersei is not the only one who has lost something today.

"Gone," Cersei repeats. "Jaime is truly gone, now. The last piece I had of him disappeared. He's gone."

Her tears begin to fall again. He sheds some too, because their brother is dead, because the child will never be born.

He weeps because he's never liked seeing her cry.

.

Cersei doesn't leave her bedchamber for weeks. Tyrion tries to rule the realm, he sends some ravens, he even sits the Iron Throne but he feels like he doesn't belong there.

He visits her every day but her condition isn't improving. She barely eats and spends her days looking out the window, eyes empty.

"Talk to me, Cersei. Please."

She never replies.

He knows exactly what's going on.

Cersei has always lived for Jaime and her children. Now, she has nothing left to live for.

His sister is dying inside. His _wife_ is dying inside, although he's still not used to calling her that.

.

"I beg you, talk to me. Let me help you."

He persuaded her to go for a walk in the gardens. He looks up. The sky is still dark, he doesn't remember what it's like to feel the sun on his skin.

"You can't help me."

"I'm your brother. I'm your husband. There must be something I can do."

She lets out a bitter laugh.

"Can you put the child back in my belly?"

"No," he admits.

He's thought about this for hours, her pain, her despair, her misery. He knows there's only one thing that could make her feel better. He's hardly aware of what he says next, it feels like a stranger speaks for him.

"But I could give you another child."

Cersei stops walking.

"What?"

"Don't look at me like that. It's logical, actually. I'm your husband. It's my duty to give you an heir."

"My husband..."

She says it as if it were a joke, forgetting she's the one who made it up when she asked him to marry her.

"This is ridiculous."

Tears fill her eyes again and she walks away. Tyrion lets her go, feeling completely helpless.

.

He keeps visiting her but they don't bring this up again. Tyrion realizes how foolish he was, thinking Cersei would agree to let him touch her, to carry his child.

That's why he's taken aback when she tells him:

"Did you mean what you said the other day?"

"What?"

"About the child."

"Oh."

He nods, looking down. Cersei is thinking out loud.

"That means you'd have to share my bed."

"Well, unless you know another way to make a child..." he laughs, trying to hide how uncomfortable he is.

She's still hesitating but then she starts rubbing her empty belly and that's probably what makes up her mind.

"All right."

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

"We'll start tomorrow."

And she dismisses him.

.

The next day, he can't seem to focus on anything.

_I'm going to lay with my sister. I'm going to lay with my sister. I'm going to lay with my sister._

Maybe he should have thought twice about this offer he made. Cersei _is_ beautiful, the problem isn't there, but she doesn't want him, she just wants his seed, and it bothers him.

She's his sister, and it bothers him even more.

He can't understand why, he was never disgusted by what she did with Jaime, but this is different. Anyway, it's too late for second thoughts.

Cersei desperately wants a child and he'll give one to her. He'll do his duty.

.

This is going to be awful.

Tyrion knows it as soon as he walks into the room. Cersei is waiting for him, sitting on her bed, arms crossed on her chest. He sits next to her awkwardly.

"So," he says, voice trembling. "How do you want to do this?"

"There's no need to pretend. This isn't about love, this is about duty."

She doesn't take off her nightgown and just lies down and spreads her legs. Feeling very clumsy, he climbs on top of her and barely dares touch her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Let's just get this over with."

It's easier said than done. He can't get aroused until he starts thinking of Daenerys, and even when he's inside her, it doesn't feel good at all. Cersei just stares at the ceiling, biting her lips, trying not to cry. He feels so guilty for hurting her. It must remind her of her wedding night, of how she lay helplessly underneath Robert, of how she was humiliated when he let out the name of another woman.

"Cersei," Tyrion whispers in her ear, hoping to ease her pain a little.

When they're done, she sits up.

"Thank you, Tyrion," she says in an emotionless voice.

 _I'm sorry_ , he wants to say, but it might be inappropriate, so he simply nods and leaves.

When they're sure that they can't hear each other anymore, they both start sobbing.

.

Cersei goes back to being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

The servants have been told not to say a word about her miscarriage or the fact that the King now shares her bed every night.

Every now and then, Tyrion feels like nothing has changed between them. She sits the Iron Throne and he stands beside her when some lord comes to the Red Keep with a request. They argue when they disagree over something. They go for a walk in the gardens. They have dinner together, sometimes they speak, sometimes they just remain silent.

But then he has to climb on her bed and he remembers that everything has changed.

It doesn't get better. Actually, it gets worse.

He hurts her and he hates himself for it when he sees the blood. He needs to think of Daenerys to get aroused and it feels like an insult to her.

He does his duty, they both do because as a queen, she's expected to provide an heir, but it's far from being pleasant.

It lasts a month, and then, one night, as she lies down and spreads her legs, he simply says:

"I can't do this anymore."

"What?" she replies, sitting up.

"I'm sorry, I can't. Not like this."

He gets to his feet and moves away from the bed.

"I don't understand," Cersei tells him.

"I don't want to be here, you don't want me to be here."

"What we want doesn't matter. It's not just about me wanting a child. The Seven Kingdoms need an heir."

It's such a cold thing to say, even though she's right.

"I hurt you," he replies. "You're in pain every time I'm inside you."

"I don't-"

"Maybe you don't care, but I do. Gods, Cersei... sometimes I get the feeling that I'm _raping_ you."

He thinks of another man, another husband who abused her whenever he felt like it.

"I won't be a second Robert Baratheon."

She softens a little.

"Well, that's very honorable of you, but... I need a child, Tyrion."

"What if you thought of Jaime while... well, it could help you."

She shakes her head, sighing.

"I've tried. It doesn't work."

"All right, all right... you could be on top, I wouldn't mind at all."

"I don't think it would make a difference."

Tyrion doesn't know what to do. All the women he ever laid with were whores who liked sharing his bed – mostly because he paid them to. He's never been confronted with such a situation.

"I'm really sorry, Cersei, I know you need an heir... I know you _want_ an heir, but I can't keep doing this."

And he walks out of the room.

.

He prays to the gods that it worked, that Cersei is now carrying a child in her womb so that he never has to crawl into her bed again.

They're sitting at the small council table, reading some scrolls when she simply says:

"I bled this morning."

He drops the scroll he's holding on the floor.

"Oh."

He has the decency not to sigh desperately. He feels it was all for nothing.

"Have you changed your mind?" Cersei asks.

"No. I don't want to share your bed until you want me to... until you _really_ want me to."

"You do realize it will probably never happen."

"You know, I've thought about this... the thing is, Cersei, I think you don't really want this to work."

"How dare you-"

" _Please_ , listen to me. You say you want a child, but you don't want _my_ child... not the way you wanted Jaime's child."

She ponders his words in silence.

"Are you saying that deep inside, I don't want to get pregnant?"

"Well... yes."

She glares at the scrolls on the table.

"That's enough for today."

She rises to her feet, walks away, and doesn't glance back. He lets her, getting the feeling that he may have made a mistake.

.

She ignores him for an entire week. He spends hours in the gardens, sitting under the trees, looking up at the dark winter sky.

Finally, Cersei comes and sits beside him.

"I miss the sun," he says. "The light."

"Me too."

He wonders what brings her here, doesn't dare ask.

"I think you were right," she admits, casting her pride aside for once. "I don't love you. I don't want you."

It's the truth but it hurts to hear it.

"And you don't want me either. I know you thought of the Dragon Queen when we laid together."

The truth again, but it's very embarrassing.

"I think we need to get to know each other better."

"What do you mean?"

She gets up.

"You will sleep in my bed every night, starting tonight."

"But-"

"We're just going to sleep. It will be a start."

"And then?"

"And then we'll see what to do."

.

So after the dinner, he doesn't leave her bedchamber, nor does he crawl on top of her, he simply slips into bed. He's not really used to sleeping beside someone. They look into each other's eyes.

"What do you expect to come out of this?" he asks.

"I don't know. Love may never come but... maybe desire will."

She doesn't sound very convinced.

"Good night, Tyrion."

And she blows out the candles on her side.

.

For a week they just sleep next to each other without touching, then one night Cersei tells him:

"Pull me close."

"What?"

"Wrap your arms around me."

"Why?"

"Your mind can be so slow, sometimes. Just do as I say."

Tyrion sighs and complies with his sister's request. She buries her face in the crook of his neck.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Good... I think. You?"

"Good. It's... pleasant to hold someone tight again."

It reminds him of all the times he swept Daenerys into an embrace. Such bittersweet memories.

"Jaime and I used to sleep like this," Cersei says.

It's the first time she's talked about Jaime since the day he died.

"He would stroke my hair for hours and I would press my ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat."

Something wet rolls down his neck and he realizes that she's sobbing, trying in vain to keep her tears from falling.

"It's all right to cry," he whispers.

He pulls her closer and runs his fingers through her hair. His heart starts beating faster.

"I miss him so much," she cries. "I wish he were with us now."

"I know. You can cry all you want."

"Gods, I'm ridiculous..."

"You're not. I'm glad you told me how you feel. I'm your husband... although not the husband you wanted. And I'm your brother. You can tell me everything."

A slight smile appears on her lips.

"Thank you."

He blushes when she kisses his cheek.

.

They make a habit of sleeping in each other's arms. The ghosts stay away when they're together. From time to time, Tyrion finds himself thinking that he's happy to be Cersei's husband.

He can see she's making efforts. She tries to be warmer to him, kinder, even if it's not always a success. She pretends to find his jokes funny, she asks him to tell her about some books he's read, she even lets him sit the Iron Throne sometimes.

She tries, so he decides to try too.

Looking past a lifetime of scorn, mistrust and betrayals, he makes an attempt to act like a good husband would. He kisses her cheek three or four times a day. He compliments her on her beauty. When they argue, he lets her have the last word because that's one of the things that really seem to please her.

He can say without lying that he likes her.

However, he doesn't love her. He still doesn't want her, and she doesn't want him either.

.

When he walks into Cersei's bedchamber that night, he notices the tub in the middle of the room.

"We're going to have a bath together," she says, answering his silent question.

He feels a lump growing in his throat.

"I don't think that-"

"We need to get used to each other's bodies."

Tyrion comes near the tub, dipping his hand in the water, feeling like drowning himself to avoid the coming humiliation. He turns to face Cersei. She's no happier than he is about this and it somewhat makes him feel a little better.

"All right," she says, breaking the silence. "Let's do this."

Slowly, she takes off her nightgown and lets it fall on the floor. Her body is what he expected to see.

"You're beautiful," he manages to say. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ashamed..." she repeats, the word sharp on her tongue.

It reminds him of something. Ashamed. _Shame_. When he realizes what he's just said, his eyes widen in panic.

"Cersei, I... I'm sorry."

He wasn't there to attend her walk of atonement, he can only imagine what she must have felt like.

"I didn't think-"

"Don't worry about that."

"But I do. What they did to you... it was _wrong_ , no matter what your crimes were."

She gives him a slight smile.

"I would have protected you," he goes on, having no idea what he's saying. "I would have kept you safe from them."

How ridiculous he must be, a dwarf thinking himself a brave knight.

"That's kind of you to say so," she replies, almost amused.

The time has come for him to take off his clothes too. He's shaking, feels like crying.

"If you really don't feel comfortable, we can do this another day," she offers.

"No, you've shown me your body, it wouldn't be fair... it's just... I hate my body and I-"

"I know," she whispers, kneeling to be at his height. "But I'm your wife. You need to trust me."

It's hard, so hard, he remembers all the times she laughed at him, despised him, blamed him for being a dwarf, and she does too because she kisses his forehead as an apology.

"I'm sorry for making you feel bad about your body. It will never happen again, I can promise you that. Can you believe me?"

"I... I can try."

"Good. Here, let me help you."

He lets her undress him very carefully, not breaking eye contact even once. He trembles with shame when he's completely naked before her bright gaze and looks down.

"Tyrion. Look at me."

His eyes are wet when they meet her own again.

"It's going to be all right. Let's get into the tub before the water gets cold."

He feels better when his twisted body disappears under the water. They simply look each other in the eye for a long time.

"I'm sorry," Cersei tells him.

"For what?"

"For everything that I've ever done to you. It's just... I have no excuses. I was full of anger, full of hatred. It cost me my children. It cost me Jaime."

He doesn't know what to say, taken aback by her words. He would never have expected her to apologize like this.

"Thank you," he responds.

"The first time we laid together... it was very decent of you to whisper my name in my ear while you were thinking of another woman."

He shrugs. It's not a day he likes to remember.

"I'd like to be a good husband."

She takes his hand and squeezes it gently.

"You are."

.

"Do you miss her?" Cersei asks him later when her body is pressed against his own in the dark.

"Yes," he admits. "She was a good woman, she really was. I have no idea what she was thinking when she attacked King's Landing. I guess I'll just never know."

Water fills his eyes.

"It's all right to cry," Cersei whispers in his ear.

"I think I've heard this before..."

"I think so too."

He smiles sadly and holds her tighter.

.

A few days later, they have another bath together. He doesn't shake this time.

"I think we can try again," Cersei says.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm getting old, you know. I'll stop bleeding soon. I can't wait forever."

He's not entirely convinced that she wants him, that he won't hurt her. That's why when she lies down on her back, he crawls between her legs instead of climbing on top of her.

"What are you doing? This isn't going to help us make a child."

"This isn't about making a child. This is about _you_."

"I don't think that – _oh_."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks shortly after.

"No, don't stop, don't," she moans.

When he's certain that she's satisfied, he lies beside her, his head on the pillow.

"How do you feel now?"

"I... I feel good. More than good, actually."

"Perfect."

He kisses her cheek.

"I know that making a child is about duty, but it doesn't mean that it can't be pleasant for you."

"I guess you're right... But don't you need-"

"No. I'm pleased, I really am. I think this is enough for tonight."

"All right."

When they fall asleep, they both have a smile on their faces.

.

When they try again, it's way better than it was the last time they laid together. They're both naked, this time, and Cersei's body is enough to excite him – she's not Daenerys, but she's still a beautiful woman. She even lets out a few moans. He wouldn't say it was good, but it was definitely better.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks.

"Of course not. Come here."

He slips into her open arms.

They share their first kiss that night, a gentle and clumsy kiss that makes him feel like kissing her lips again.

.

Cersei is different now. She smiles more often and sometimes, he catches her rubbing her belly hopefully, looking dreamy.

"I like seeing you smile," he confesses one afternoon.

Looking up from the letter she's writing, she frowns.

"You're not making fun of me, are you?"

"Of course not! I mean what I said."

It hurts him a little that she still doubts his sincerity.

"Well... thank you, Tyrion."

Obviously their trust issues won't simply go away overnight, but Tyrion has always been hopeful. One day, the sun will shine again.

.

One night, she barely kisses him back.

"What's going on?" he asks, worried.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, please."

"I just feel sad, today. Don't worry about it. Let's make this child."

He shakes his head and frowns.

"You don't want to do it."

"It doesn't matter what I want."

" _Yes it does._ If you don't want to lay with me for some reason, just say so. I told you, I won't be a second Robert Baratheon. If you don't feel good, then I don't either."

She starts crying. He wipes her tears away with tenderness.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking of Jaime and my children and-"

"Don't apologize. Just cry. Just cry..."

He sheds a few tears too. The shadows will never leave, he knows. They'll just have to learn to live with them.

.

Their nights become more passionate, just like their kisses. Cersei seems hungry for his body and it's an odd feeling, being wanted by a woman who cares nothing for his money. He's hungry for her body as well, but he's also hungry for her eyes, her smile, her kisses. He's no fool, he knows what's going on.

He's falling for his wife.

He's falling for his sister.

And he has no idea what to think of it.

.

"You've been distant lately," Cersei notices.

"Have I?"

They're walking in the gardens, his arm slipped through hers.

"Yes. Is something wrong?"

"Not at all."

She makes him look her in the eye.

"You're an awful liar."

"If you say so."

She doesn't insist, she never does, but he feels bad for not telling her the truth. He just can't bring himself to tell her that he loves her, because she certainly doesn't love him back and he couldn't bear to be rejected.

.

One morning, when he wakes up, his face is buried in her neck and his hand is resting on her breast. Without thinking, he caresses it, gently pinching her nipple, fighting the urge to kiss every inch of her body. He's mortified when he realizes what he's doing and rolls over, ashamed of himself.

He never knew Cersei's eyes were open the whole time.

.

"I think I know what's wrong," Cersei says as they're about to go to bed.

"There's nothing wrong."

"Yes there is. Whenever you touch me, you seem to feel guilty."

"Well, I... maybe," he admits.

"You're falling for me."

He blushes.

"I think I am."

"But something bothers you."

"I'm afraid that you don't share my feelings."

"I get this. But it doesn't explain the guilt."

She runs her fingers through his hair.

"You're bothered because I'm you sister, aren't you?"

He bites his lips and nods.

"Why? You knew about Jaime and me and you never seemed disgusted."

"I wasn't, but it was different. Jaime and you... you were the same, you were one. You and I are nothing alike. It just feels wrong."

She studies his face for a few seconds and then undresses, letting her clothes fall on the floor. Then, she takes his hand and brings it to her body.

"Does it feel wrong when you touch me here?"

"No, but-"

"And here?" she goes on, leading it to her breasts.

"No," he whispers.

She smirks.

"Does it feel wrong when I touch you here?" she asks, touching him between the legs.

"Gods, Cersei-"

"Answer me."

"It feels good. _Very good_."

She makes him sit on the bed and climbs on top of him.

"You're my blood. No one can understand you like I do. We're lions. We're meant to be together."

Still smiling, she whispers in his ear:

"I love you."

And doing so she sweeps away his reluctance. For the first time, they are truly one that night.

.

He tells her that he loves her, even though she already knew.

This isn't the marriage they wanted but they end up finding some happiness in it.

"There might be something wrong with my seed," Tyrion says one night after they've made love.

"Maybe."

"It means you would never get pregnant."

She sighs.

"I'll be all right."

"Will you?"

"Yes. I have something else to live for now."

He gives her a passionate kiss.

.

A few months later, she tells him the good news over the dinner.

"I haven't bled for three months."

He drops his fork on the floor, making her laugh.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted to be sure. What's more, I could lose it, like the last one."

She can't help smiling.

"That's... that's wonderful. Congratulations."

They finish eating in silence. Then, Tyrion gets up, not knowing what to do.

"Well... we've done our duty. The Iron Throne will have its heir."

"Yes."

"It means I don't have to share your bed anymore."

"You don't."

They stare at each other, eyes shining.

"I don't want to go," he says, coming near her.

"I don't want you to go either," she replies.

They laugh as they both roll on the bed.

.

Cersei doesn't lose the baby.

Cerenna Lannister comes into the world in perfect health. When he holds her for the first time, Tyrion really realizes that she's not only Cersei's child, she's also his.

"She's perfect," he murmurs, glancing at Cersei. "As perfect as you."

He puts the baby back in her cradle, still smiling, and pulls Cersei close.

"I'm glad you asked me to be your husband."

"And I'm glad you said yes."

He looks out the window. In the sky, the sun shines for the first time in months, almost leaving him blind.

"Summer is coming," he whispers. "Everything is going to be all right."

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song "Outside" by Mormor.


End file.
